


Talking to the Moon

by kissedmequiteinsane



Category: Bellarke - Fandom, The 100 (TV)
Genre: 5000+ words, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode: s04e13 Praimfaya, F/M, Flash Forward, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Multi, Other, POV Bellamy Blake, POV Clarke Griffin, Space Pirates, True Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 06:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11030781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissedmequiteinsane/pseuds/kissedmequiteinsane
Summary: A look into how Clarke managed to survive 2199 days on the ground versus how Bellamy managed to survive 2199 in space





	Talking to the Moon

Maybe the crack in her helmet was for the best, because when Clarke woke up almost a day later, the death wave had already passed. Becca’s lab was in shambles; instruments overturned, papers all over, desks and chairs and glass scattered about from the resulting earthquakes, cracks in the ground and on the walls and broken wires hanging overhead. 

No more electricity. 

No more power. 

No more nothing. 

Just her and the raspy sound of her own breathing. ..And her thoughts.

_Did they make it?_

**Day Two**  found Clarke managing to get up and move again, the radiation lesions making every single movement feel like agony but she needed to get up. She needed water, food..needed to figure out what to do next. Needed to do something other than thinking the lifeless bodies of her friends floating in the cold abyss of space.

 **Day Five**  found Clarke moving a little easier, a little less painful. She’d found a couple water jugs the others had left behind, some dehydrated food, and even though it confused her as to why they were there in the first place since she _knew_  Raven had been strict about bringing as many rations with them as she could, Clarke considered it a blessing. 

 _Maybe he left them purposefully. For me_.She pushed that thought away and tried to eat a little, the pain from the lesions in her mouth at least giving her something else to focus on.

 **Day Ten**  found Clarke discovering her body healing more and more with old, dead skin slowly peeling away to reveal the soft, pink newness underneath. She really had become a Natblida. Luna’s blood really did work.

_She could’ve given him her blood. He could’ve still been here with her._

**Day Twelve** found Clarke exploring more of the lab, looking into places she hadn’t bothered to in the past. After all, she had nothing better to do and the day was young–or at least, she thought it was. All that shone through from the outside was red. No sun, no moon, no day or night…just endless red. Maybe that’s why she started counting the hours and then the days, just to keep from going insane. That day was when she found it. Under desk drawers and broken glass tubes and rubble, she found a radio, one that, miraculously, was still somewhat intact. 

 **Day Thirteen** was spent solely on fixing the radio, handling it with such care that it was like she was performing open heart surgery- and in a way..maybe it was. 

 **Day Fourteen**  was A Big One as she liked to dub them. Day fourteen was the day she got the radio fixed- and it the day she decided to finally open the door and go outside. It reminded her of the day they landed on the ground a little bit, when the dropship door opened and outside was green and light and beautiful and _new_. It was certainly new outside–but it was anything from beautiful. 

Desolate was the first word that sprung to Clarke’s mind. Empty. A wasteland. Gone was the beautiful green Earth she’d dreamt about in the Ark and had lived on for months now. In its place was..nothingness. A vast, all-encompassing nothingness. The red was so bright it was blinding and the radiation still in the air stung against her skin, making her wince and hiss in pain, but it didn’t affect her as badly as it would’ve someone else, someone who didn’t have nightblood running through their veins.

For a second she thought about grabbing one of Echo’s discarded blades from inside, maybe a gun, but then she realized she was the only one out there. No one else survived that wasn’t up in the sky or deep underground. 

She was alone.

It startled her how _un_ startled that thought made her.

Clarke wandered, stumbling over the uneven terrain, completely unaware where was even going until she saw where she was- the satellite tower. She looked up at it, large and looming and still intact, and for a second she felt a flicker of hope bubble up inside her.

_What if it worked? What if they’re up there right now..alive and okay? What if **he’s** okay?_

Clarke sat at the base of the tower, looking at the reddened skin of her arms before she fiddled with the radio and decided to hell with it:

  

 

> _Bellamy? Bellamy..can you hear me? If you can….it’s Clarke. The nightblood worked..and I’m still alive. And I’m still here…..even if you can’t be. None of you can be. Not yet._

Clarke swallowed past the lump in her throat as she let go of the switch on the radio and she looked up at the sky, trying to blink the tears away as she lifted the radio to her lips again.

 

 

> _I haven’t given up hope. We will meet again._

**Day Fifteen**  found Clarke going back to the tower, once again sitting at the base and bringing the radio to her lips, talking to the boy up in the sky and hoping that one day he’d reply.

 **Day Sixteen**  too.

 **Day Thirty**  is when Clarke’s food rations finished and she realized she finally needed to leave the lab and leave the island. She headed towards Arkadia which, surprising, was still somewhat intact.

 **Day Thirty-Two**  was when Clarke found the remnants of what had been Bellamy’s room, one of his jackets now singed and in tatters on the ground.

 **Day Thirty-Two**  was the first day since Praimfaya that Clarke finally allowed herself to breakdown. 

 **Day Thirty-Three** was when Clarke built herself back up again. She was alone but she was alive, and she had to keep it that way. She searched every inch of Arkadia, scavenging for any useable clothes and foods. Outside, she tended to the soil, trying her best to make it hospitable for _something_  to grow with the few seeds she’d salvaged from farm station’s quarters.

 **Day Seventy-Four**  was the day she actually started getting little sprouts out of the ground, and she couldn’t wait to tell Bellamy.

 **Day One Hundred**  was hard for her. It felt monumental, and every fiber of her being told her to gather up supplies and head towards Polis, towards her people in the bunker…but she couldn’t. It wasn’t safe outside from them, the whole planet was inhospitable for _hundreds_  of more days. _Thousands_. Day One Hundred was the second time Clarke broke down. She wanted her mom. She wanted Bellamy, and she said as much on the radio.

 **Day Two-Hundred and Eight**  was when she found the Rover, and the next month went into fixing it.

 **Day Two-Hundred and Forty-One**  was when she gloated to Bellamy over the radio that she was a better mechanic than him and Raven _combined_.

 **Day Three-hundred and Sixty Seven**  was the day Clarke decided she couldn’t stay in Arkadia anymore. She had everything she needed there–food, shelter, safety..but she was stagnant. She was restless. Day in and day out was the same thing for her: wake up, eat, talk to Bellamy. She’d repurposed scrap metals into knives, swords, bound together broken pieces of handguns into rifles, practically had an entire wardrobe with all the clothes she’d managed to save and repurpose. She had a life but it wasn’t a _life_  and she couldn’t do this anymore. Not when she still had another four more years to go before seeing anyone else. 

 **Day Three-hundred and Sixty Eight**  was when she started packing everything up she’d need, basically loading everything and anything into the truck and leaving Arkadia bare.

 **Day Three-Hundred and Ninety-Nine** was the day Clarke found out she wasn’t alone. 

Finding out that someone, _anyone_ , was alive out there was enough to nearly send Clarke into cardiac arrest–they’d all been under the impression that Luna was the last Nightblood, after all–but the fact that the _other_  last-known survivor also happened to only be eight years old? Well…that _definitely_  had Clarke’s heart stuttering for a bit. 

 **Day Four Hundred**  all the way up until **Day Two Thousand One Hundred and Ninety Nine**  all started to revolve around the little girl who had quickly become Clarke’s everything. Madi was smart, brave, cunning, someone who could’ve definitely had a shot at becoming the next Commander when her time came given the fact that she’d survived Praimfaya alone. But Madi was also sweet and gentle, still so young and innocent and Clarke vowed to do anything to protect her.

 

 

> _I wonder if this is how my mom felt about me. …If it is..I now get why she was always so worried and protective. And why her last words to us were to take care of each other.. I had to bite my tongue to tell her that she didn’t have to bother saying that..that ever since our first day on the ground all you ever did was protect me. Even when it was reluctant._

Clarke spoke quietly into the radio on on **Day Two Thousand One Hundred and Ninety Eight** , Madi curled up against her, using her stomach as a pillow and Clarke smiled down at her, running her fingers through the girls brown hair. 

 

 

> _Madi’s getting bigger..stronger. She reminds me a lot of Octavia at times. You’d love her, Bellamy. And I can’t wait for you two to meet, because I know she’ll love you too. ..It’d be pretty hard not to, after all.._

She sighed softly, trying hard to remember the exact sound of how he huffed out a breath before laughing, trying to remember the way the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled and she bit her lip, swallowing hard. 

 

 

> _I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Bel._
> 
>  

* * *

 

 _Day One Thousand Eight Hundred and Twenty Six_  was when Bellamy Blake’s life was once again tilted on its axis and sent everything into a tailspin.

The past four years up in the Ring had been..challenging. With only six other people and literally _nowhere_  to go though, they all expected as much. But today was _the day_ , the one they’d all been counting down to: it was officially five years since Praimfaya….it was finally time to go back down to the ground, to go back _home_ –and really, it was strange to think of the ground as home when he’d spent most of his life up in space but..that’s how it was. His sister was on the ground, Kane was on the ground, his people… _Abby_. 

Bellamy wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to face Abby Griffin. Not when his last words to her was that he’d protect her daughter… Not when Abby had spent the last five years with the hope that Clarke was alive up in space with the rest of them..

Going back to the ground meant finally coming to terms with the fact that Clarke’s bones were within the rubble of whatever was left of the planet they once knew and it was because he left her behind.

“Bellamy! You gonna help prep the oxygen tanks for the suits or what?”

He turned around to face Murphy, the man’s hair shorter whereas Bellamy had let his own curls grow out longer and he sighed, pulling himself away from the window ledge that overlooked the Earth and had become _his spot_ , and he nodded, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

The weeks leading up to the day had been spent prepping the rocket to go back down to the ground, Monty and Raven working tirelessly to get everything perfect. They’d all rationed off food to take with them, knowing they’d need it for when they got back down there and strangely, they all felt a little…sad, at times, to be leaving the Ring. It’d become their home over the last five years after all, a place they’d all made their own, and a place they all bonded together in. Echo and Emori taught them all about the ground and their history, their traditions. Echo taught them about Azgeda, they taught the others Trigedasleng until they were all fluent in it and likewise, Echo and Emori were taught about the Ark, about Sky People and their own traditions, and slowly but surely the seven of them became like a family. 

So much so that no one questioned it when Bellamy would sometimes make food for eight instead of seven, when he sometimes would slip and call out Clarke’s name before immediately correcting himself. They all turned a blind eye and for that, he was eternally grateful.

Two hours later had them all suited up, deja vu hitting as they all climbed into the rocket once again, all of them older, wiser, this time aiming down instead of up and this time all holding hands as the computer loudly counted down to zero and blasted them off.

They didn’t make it to Earth though.

 _Day One Thousand Eight Hundred and Twenty Seven_  found them all slowly waking up one by one, all of them face first on the ground, wrists shackled and behind bars, the boys in one cell and the girls in another. 

It wasn’t the others that woke Bellamy up though–in fact, he was the first one to regain consciousness at all– instead, it was a voice.

 

 

> _I finally decided to bite the bullet and cut my hair today. Madi was a bit disappointed since she loved braiding it for me but…it was time. Yesterday officially made it five years. It’s officially safe for you guys to come back down, and I wasn’t about to greet you looking like Grounder Rapunzel._

A laugh.

 _Her laugh_.

Bellamy gasped awake, jolting so suddenly it made him cough and groan as he felt pain radiate throughout him. Still, he fought past it, his head spinning, so goddamned _confused_  and this _had_ to be a dream right? 

 

 

> _I also caught her trying to drive the Rover yesterday. ..Maybe once you’re back we can teach her together. Or maybe I’ll have to teach you again since you haven’t driven in a while._

“… _Clarke_?”

Bellamy tried to get up then, his eyes finally opening and he looked around, seeing Monty and Murphy around him, both with handcuffs too and he groaned as he sat up, “Guys. _Guys!”_ He cried, watching them both. He heard footsteps then, and with them…Clarke’s voice only got louder, and with each step Bellamy’s heart raced faster and faster. “Clarke? Clarke!”

 

 

> _Anyways, I better go get a start on breakfast. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Bel._

“ _CLARKE!”_

Bellamy screaming Clarke’s name wasn’t something the two boys hadn’t dealt with before, but waking up handcuffed on a hard steel floor certainly was. “Bellamy! Bel, calm down! What’s going on?!” Monty called out, struggling to sit up as well at the same time Murphy did, both of them looking around in confusion and both at the same time realizing the girls were missing. 

Bellamy was spiraling though, and when he heard Monty’s voice he spun his head around to face him, eyes wide, frantic, “I..I heard her voice. She’s _here_. I heard her!–” “Bel, snap out of it! It was another nightmare! You need to focus, where are the others? Where’s Emori?!” Murphy snapped at the same time Monty called out Harper’s name. Bellamy shook his head though, trying to get up, “I wasn’t _dreaming_ , Murphy! I _heard her_!”

He was cut off by a round of loud, rough laughter, the three boys freezing on the spot and turning towards the bars of their cell. They watched as shadows loomed closer, footsteps and laughs getting louder and Bellamy’s head snapped up in time to see a man appear, flanked by two others soon after. The one up front was large, his shirt tight around his muscles, his jacket looking like it was patched together with fragments from other jackets and his grin was dangerous as he looked at the imprisoned boys.

“Who the hell are you guys? What are we doing here?”  Murphy’s voice was tight, anger laced in fear as he faced them all, “Where are the others?”

The men all just laughed again and the one up front took another step closer, “Oh don’t you worry. Those pretty things are being taken care of _just_ as well as you three are.”

Before Monty or Murphy could even say anything else Bellamy was finally standing and he moved to the bars, eyes blazing. “Where is she? Where’s Clarke? I heard her voice. Where is she?!”

Once again the men laughed while Monty and Murphy both tried to talk Bellamy down–they both stopped though when the leader of the Space Men raised his arm up, an old, battered up radio dangling in the man’s hand. “So _that’s_  her name? Huh. Nice to finally have a name to put to the voice.” he gruffed, making the boys share equal looks of shock as Bellamy roughly kicked at the bars, “ _Where is she_?!”

“Guess we finally found her Bellamy, given the way he’s actin’.”

The leader’s grin got more menacing as he used his free hand to reach out, going between the bars and gripping at Bellamy’s shirt, tugging on it hard and making his body slam against them. 

“The freak on the ground ain’t here. We don’t know _what_  she is..but she ain’t human. Isn’t any way someone could’ve survived down there if they were. But boy is she chatty. _Every single day_  she talks to you.” he sneered, keeping Bellamy pinned to the bars. “It’s been _years_  since we’ve been getting her transmissions up here..talking in gibberish and about black blood. But ya know what? Yesterday’s transmission was different. Yesterday she said it was _safe_  to go down to the ground. And soon…we’ll be doing just that. And then I’ll finally be able to put a bullet in that thing’s brain and her dear sweet _Bellamy_  can watch.”

With that he roughly shoved Bellamy away, making him stumble and fall heavily back onto the ground, landing on his ass. Murphy and Monty both moved to him, trying in vain to get free from their restraints to help him. Bellamy couldn’t really move though. His heart felt like it was going to pound right out of his chest, his head spinning, and he was practically hyperventilating when he finally lifted his head up to face them both,

“She’s alive.”

 _Day One Thousand Eight Hundred and Twenty Eight_ Bellamy was woken up the same way, to hearing Clarke’s voice, and the second he said her name, one of the guards on the outside of the cell doused him with a bucket of ice-cold water, laughing as he walked away, the sound of Clarke saying his name fading with him. 

 _Day One Thousand Eight Hundred and Thirty_ was when the boys were finally reunited with the girls, all of them looking a little worse for wear, obviously having put up a fight. All of them thought Bellamy was losing his mind when he told them Clarke was alive–but then they were all present for that day’s transmission and they all shared equal looks of shock and relief, all of them having the same bubbling up of hope brewing inside them.

If Clarke was alive..there was still the chance for everyone else. A chance for things to be like they once were. A chance for them all to get their happy endings.

 _Day One Thousand Eight Hundred and Thirty-One_ was when they were all put to work. 

They were all forced into labor, into not only cleaning the ship, but in getting it ready to get to Earth, and any disobedience ended in punishment. In the days, weeks, months to come, they were all beaten and starved and bruised by the Space Men. Wiped and tormented and were put into solitary confinement when one particularly acted out. But Bellamy’s punishments all had an extra bit of cruelty to them. The men in the ship had recorded almost every single transmission Clarke had put out, and when they felt like it, they tortured Bellamy with it, playing them in a loop, making him listen to how desolate and alone she felt, all the times she thought about taking her own life, how much she missed him, missed _everyone_. 

But as much as it was a punishment…it was a blessing. Hearing Clarke alive, hearing her voice was something Bellamy only ever dreamed of for the past four years, and he soaked it all up, even the painful ones. He ached to see her again, to meet Madi. He thought about Clarke as a mother, protecting this girl like her own, and it was one of the most perfect mental images he’d ever had. 

Sometimes though, they wouldn’t let Bellamy listen in at all, would toy with him and say there wasn’t a transmission that day, that maybe she’d finally died. Other days they’d talk in detail about what they’d do to her, how they’d use her before killing her in front of him, making him watch every single moment of it.

All of this went on for months, every single day, until finally  _Day Two Thousand One Hundred and Ninety Nine_  came: they day their ship was finally ready to permeate the Earth’s atmosphere and get them to the ground. As a mark of it, the men even broke the radio in front of Bellamy, cutting off his ties to her. 

He’d barely eaten in days, barely slept, all tactics by the Space Men to make it so he’d be weaker when they finally landed on the ground.  

 

> _Nevermind…I see you._

Entering Earth’s atmosphere had been hard on all of them, even the Space Men, but they all had a mission: eradicate the girl and her child and take the land for themselves.

The ship hovered near where Clarke was watching as she and Madi tried in vain to duck out of sight. Bellamy and the rest were all gagged and bound the whole time, all of them blindfolded except Bellamy because the Space Men were admittedly wary about this–they’d never set foot on land before after all. But still, they had a promise to keep to have Bellamy watch, and they weren’t about to go back on it. 

Moments later the ship’s hatch opened and a ramp came out, leading down over the cliffside to the ground and Clarke could only watch in fear, Madi behind her as the dust started to settle and the loud sound of heavy boots walking down it echoed, five men walking out.

Bellamy’s heart was racing the whole time, wrists aching from trying to pull at the restraints as he was basically dragged out of his cell and that’s when he heard it: the leader’s voice calling Clarke’s name outside. 

“Come on out Clarke! We know you’re out there. The _one spot of green_ , right?” he called teasingly, his voice still laced with danger as he took his first steps on the ground, looking around as more men slowly filed out behind him. Clarke stayed where she was hidden though, watching them, hands clutching her rifle, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. “Besides, we have a gift for you…”

Two more men came out then, dragging a man between them, a prisoner by the looks of it, and when his head lulled to the side Clarke couldn’t help the sharp gasp that escaped her- revealing where she was.

Bellamy took that as his moment to act.

He immediately shoved all his weight to the side, toppling one man over the side of the ramp and down below while the other guard and Bellamy tumbled down the ramp. The movements allowed him to at least dislodge the muffle out from his mouth and he spat it out, trying to get free still, “Clarke! _run_!”

She didn’t though, instead her and Madi sprung into action, the girl deftly stealing one of Clarke’s knives from her thigh holster and she stood up straight, not even hesitating as she launched it across the field and hit one of the men square in the neck.

“ _We need backup_!” The leader yelled loudly and just like that, the men who were watching over Murphy, Raven, and the rest ran out, none the wiser to the fact that their prisoners had all been silently working to free each other from the wrist restraints. 

The guard that had fallen with Bellamy was now on him, punching him in the face and keeping him down, Bellamy unable to fight back since his wrists were still bound but he still tried to buck free, trying to wrestle out from under him. It wasn’t easy though, he was weak, body tired, and when the guard wrapped his hand around his neck all Bellamy could do was gasp for breath, legs kicking out desperately under him. His vision was starting to black out a bit, heart pounding erratically, and his head was spinning, thoughts racing, _Clarke_ …

Next thing he knew blood was being splatted over his face, the hands loosening their grip around his windpipe, and he managed to blink his eyes up and see a bullet hole in the man’s forehead before he heard a young, sharp yell and the body was toppled off him. 

Bellamy was still gasping for breath, was still blinking the spots out from his vision when he was tugged up and bent forwards, the cold of a blade pressing against his wrists, but before he could panic the rope was being sliced away and he coughed, wincing upwards and seeing a girl there in front of him, fire blazing in her eyes. “M..Madi..?” “ _Ste kamp daun_.”

Stay down.

Before he had a chance to reply though she was off like a shot, dagger gripped in hand as she charged off towards a group of people- Clarke in the center. 

That was all Bellamy needed to force himself to get up. He looked to the bodies already on the ground and headed towards the first one, yanking the knife out from the guard’s jugular in time to hear a scream–this time in pain. Madi’s arm had been grazed by a bullet, tearing through the sleeve of her coat and leaving blood beginning to drip down her arm but she didn’t stop, charging towards her assailant and dodging his next few shots until she was close enough to elbow and kick, managing to fight the gun away from him and stabbing him in the gut. 

One by one bodies were dropped around them like flies and Bellamy joined the fight, using the knife and a gun he’d grabbed to pick off any of the Space Men who kept coming out of the ship, Bellamy’s marksmanship a bit rusty after years of not firing a gun but he still managed until he ran out of bullets, feeling like he was running on fumes and like he could pass out at any second- but he couldn’t. Not yet.

“Clarke, no!”

Bellamy looked over and watched in horror as Madi was disarmed and Clarke’s rifle was thrown out of her hands, her body being knocked to the ground by the leader of the Space Men, the man bleeding and panting but he was grinning as he aimed his pistol at her head. “I’ve been waiting for this for _years.”_

The leader cocked his pistol to shoot and Clarke looked away from him then, eyes searching, scanning around frantically because if this was how she was finally going out then she _needed_  to see him one last time, needed to make sure she wasn’t imagining it…

Before she could lock eyes with him though the sound of a shot rang out and she jumped, squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for the pain, for the nothingness.

But it never came.

She squinted her eyes open in time to see the leader dropping to the ground just inches in front of her, a pool of blood quickly forming around his head and then she looked up, eyes widening as she saw Bellamy, bleeding and shaking, arm outstretched with a gun in his hand, still aimed towards the man.

“Bel..”

Bellamy’s arm trembled as he dropped the gun, body weak, but then Clarke was saying his name and he swallowed past the pain, managing to start to walk towards her..even if he stumbled a bit.

Him almost falling seemed to snap her out of it because Clarke gasped and scrambled up, stumbling up to her feet, “Bellamy!”

The second she was up she was running, darting between the space between them and Bellamy managed another step before he just outstretched his arms pulled her in. His body sagged against hers, trembling, but despite his weakness his arms held her tight, heart pounding loud enough he was sure she could feel it. Clarke’s arms gripping around him felt like an anchor, and as her hands locked behind him in the same way they had the last time she’d hugged him, he finally felt like he could breathe again, like after five years his Earth was spinning properly.

“Bellamy, I–” He cut her off, hand at the back of her neck, twisted into the short blonde locks there and he pulled her in, doing something he’s only dreamt about for the past five years. Her lips on his felt like home; more than the stars and more than the ground _this_  is where he belonged. Here, with her. Clarke was his home.

Clarke gasped against his lips before she kissed him back, her tears staining into his skin, her own hands trembling behind his back and he held her close, clutching at her as if she were a ghost and this was all a fantasy that would vanish through his fingertips like trying to hold water.

“I heard you.” he breathed out against her lips, gruff and breathless, desperate. “E-Every…every day that they had me..I heard you. I wanted to come back..i..if we could’ve…” as he spoke his fingers moved through her hair, one over her shoulder, to her hip, touching her, making sure she was real as he finally pulled back, cupping her cheek as he looked down at her, his own eyes full of tears, “I shouldn’t have _ever_  left you behind..–”

“Stop.” She told him immediately, sniffling and leaning into the touch on her cheek, “I told you then…to be a leader..you need to use your brain. You did the _right thing_ , Bellamy. Leaving me.”

Before he could say anything else there was a commotion behind them and Bellamy’s arms on her instinctively tightened, ready to protect her from anything and everything else–but he relaxed when he saw six people stumbling out, Murphy leading the pack with a grin as he tossed a gun aside, “Been waiting to shoot at _least_  four of them in the face for months now.”

Bellamy smiled over at them, looking down at Clarke in his arms and squeezing gently before letting her go, watching as the six all let out various forms of excitement at seeing her. He meanwhile headed over to where Madi was standing tentatively to the side, not wanting to intrude as Clarke reconnected with her old friends. Bellamy went to her though, smiling softly, “Thank you, for saving my life. I’m–” “Bellamy.” He blinked at her, smiling more as he nodded and in a surprising move, Madi was suddenly closing the distance and wrapping her arms around him, hugging him close, “Thank you for coming back to her."

 

* * *

 

Between the nine of them, they managed to dispose of the bodies and take control of the ship, safely landing it fully on the ground, nearby to the rover, becoming their pseudo-home for now. Madi marveled at taking her first real shower in a tub, at her wounds being taken care of with anesthesia and stitches instead of hot irons and rags. The six marveled at the chance of real food in over five years. And Bellamy and Clarke? They marveled at each other. 

Not even Murphy could find it in him to tease them about it when they’d kissed again in front of him, when Bellamy’s arms wound around her again, instead he just smiled with the rest of them, all sharing the same sense of relief and hope that Bellamy finally having Clarke back gave him. She tended to his wounds and sat with him, perched on the edge of the bed she’d made him rest on as she held his hand in her lap, his fingers rougher, more calloused than she’d remembered them but still laced through her gently even as he dozed, the orange of the sunset filtering through the windows.

“Day one.” he murmured, voice low and quiet, deeper with sleep. She furrowed her brows at him, tilting her head slightly as she moved her free hand over, holding his hand in both of hers, “Hmm? Day one of..what?”

He squeezed his hand in hers, securing his grip as he blinked his eyes open, meeting her gaze and smiling softly up at her, lovingly, “Day one of the rest of my life…with you.”

Clarke smiled down at him, holding his hand just as securely as she leaned down, pressing her lips gently against his and lingering there for a moment before pulling back slightly, close enough that their lips still brushed together as she spoke: "Day One."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've written in well over a year, and my first one in The 100 fandom so I hope it's received well! If you do happen to like it, please feel free to [reblog it](http://kissedmequiteinsane.tumblr.com/post/161190564375) on tumblr to spread it around more!


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